


Reveal

by leere



Series: Shit I Write On Tumblr [12]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Sex, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:24:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6144423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leere/pseuds/leere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous asked: au where pete and patrick are bfs that share an apartment but their landlord is always like "wow you are such good friends" and it drives pete INSANE. so he always tries to leave incriminating evidence around the place...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reveal

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Tumblr on 2/27/16.  
> Anonymous asked: au where pete and patrick are bfs that share an apartment but their landlord is always like "wow you are such good friends" and it drives pete INSANE. so he always tries to leave incriminating evidence around the place when the landlord comes in for inspections and eventually he just times it so he's fucking patrick in the hallway when the dude walks in and the dude sputters and pete, still pounding patrick, is like "haHAHAHA yes behold our epic gay love"  
> Takes place circa '04.

“Right there, oh my God, fuck, Pete, oh God-” Patrick’s babbling, moaning, shoving himself back against Pete’s thrusts, fingers scrabbling at the table he’s braced on even though there’s nothing for him to grab onto. Pete’s having a hard time multitasking, stuck between making sure his hips keep a decent rhythm up, watching the distracting arch of Patrick’s back, and glancing at the door for any sign of their landlord, who Pete had spoken on the phone to hours before. He’d told him to “just walk in, the door’ll be unlocked.” Now he waits, anxious, fucking praying he won’t blow his load before the guy comes in.

Pete lets Patrick’s hips go to slide one hand up his sweaty back, up until it’s curled in his hair. He gives a yank and Patrick’s head jerks back. Pete can’t help but to grin at the way Patrick moans and pushes back against his well-timed thrusts, which are hard and deep and punishing, just the way he knows Patrick likes. “Fucking slut,” he leans down to growl in Patrick’s ear, just for the way his breath hitches and he squeezes his eyes shut. Patrick hates himself for getting off on the humiliation, Pete knows it, but fuck if he’s not going to take advantage of it anyway.

He’s so close, so damn close, listening to Patrick’s groans and staring at the door, waiting, praying their landlord will come before they do, when he hears the tell tale footsteps just outside. He lets go of Patrick’s hair in favor of pushing him down, so his cheek is pressed down against the table and he’s staring at the door - when the guy, Dennis is his name, comes in, Patrick will be looking right at him. 

“Arch your back,” Pete says, pulling back a little so he can watch the way his dick looks sliding into Patrick’s ass.

The blonde does, and Pete thrusts in again, and he’s suddenly that much deeper, and Patrick whines and cries, “Harder, come on, I’m so fucking close, come on, oh my God, you asshole-”

Pete gets to thrusting again, loving what a slut Patrick is for it all, and stares at the door, waiting, waiting - and then it’s opening, and Dennis is coming in, a bright cheery smile on his pleasant, tan face. The smile instantly drops when he lays eyes on them and his mouth falls open in disbelief. 

“Oh fuck,” Patrick says, looking absolutely horrified, but Pete chooses that moment to rut against his prostate and reach around to get a hand around his dick, giving it a squeeze. Patrick shouts and comes over Pete’s fingers, and Pete giggles and strokes him through it, glancing over at Dennis again. The guy’s blushing bright red, and to Pete’s amusement, he’s pitching a tent in his tan chinos.

“I’ll come back later,” he says quickly, leaving with a slam of the door.

“I hate you,” Patrick says, and Pete comes without meaning to, rooted deep in Patrick’s ass. He slumps against Patrick’s back once he’s done, put out, and Patrick sighs loudly. “I seriously really fucking hate you. You did that on purpose, didn’t you, you freak? You’re so fucking weird. Get out of my ass.”

Pete laughs again and pulls out, pulling the condom off and tying it. He sets it on the table, right next to Patrick’s arm, and Patrick jerks away, disgusted. Pete pulls his boxers and pants up, from where they’d been pooled around his ankles, and watches Patrick do the same, grimacing when he bends over. “Teach that motherfucker,” Pete says, going into the kitchen to throw the rubber away.

“Now I can never talk face-to-face with him again, Pete, thanks.” Patrick stiffly goes over to the couch and sits down, looking not quite pissed, but more irritable than anything. “God, I hate you. He’s gonna gossip and the whole apartment’s gonna find out I take it up the ass. Everybody’s gonna lose respect for me. Seriously. Thanks.”

“The whole apartment’s gonna find out I give it up the ass,” Pete counters, and Patrick glares at him when he comes to sit beside him. “At least people will stop thinking we’re just friends now. You’re mine, I want people to know that.”

Patrick still looks pissy, but his expression softens, just a little, and he gives Pete a tiny smile. “You’re so possessive, it’s adorable when it’s not creepy as hell. Which, like, it’s usually more creepy than adorable, more often than not, but sometimes it’s endearing - shit, why do I love you?”

Pete scoots closer until he’s cuddled up to Patrick’s side, nuzzling his neck and closing his eyes. “’Cause I fuck good and I write love songs about your ass. Also ‘cause I’m, like, your soul mate, and I dream about how pretty you are, inside and outside, and how mine you are.”

Patrick huffs, but Pete knows he’s smiling.


End file.
